


The Meaning of Family

by Cassiebobassie



Series: Castiel, the Angel in our House [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, American Victorian, American Victorian cowboys, Cas is not Dean's brother, Christmas Eve, Christmas Party, Confessions, Cowboys, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Don't End in Blood, Family Drama, Farmer Castiel, HEA, Happy Ending, Husbands, Kansas in 1870, M/M, Mutual Pining, Period-Typical Homophobia, Rancher!Dean, Religious Castiel, Romance, Son of pastor!Castiel, They love each other, True Love, Virgin!Castiel, end of angst, or his buddy, riding off into the sunset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassiebobassie/pseuds/Cassiebobassie
Summary: It's been over a month since Dean and Cas's relationship crumbled around them. They've both been hurting and trying to heal. But when Dean arrives at the Milton family Christmas party and sees how Cas is about to throw his life away, he knows he can't take another minute of this misery. It's fine to carry the burden of lost love on his own, but he refuses to let Cas live an empty life of service. He's determined to fix things, and he'll go down fighting for Cas even if all of Lawrence falls down in a fainting fit. A Christmas party is the perfect time to make your feelings known, right? Right?The happy ending of the (angst-filled) Victorian-cowboy AU!





	The Meaning of Family

**Author's Note:**

> You'll probably need to read the whole series before jumping in here! I hope you enjoy it. These poor fellas deserve their happy ending.

Dean clenched his jaw and tried to hold back from yelling at Zachariah or Amelia or Cas. He tensed, every line in his body ready for a fight.

Except who could he punch to solve this damn problem? Violence wouldn't work here. No matter how good knocking Zach flat on his ass might feel. He sighed angrily. He couldn’t do this. He could not fucking do this.

Invited to the Milton family Christmas party, Dean had dressed in his finest suit and a silk cravat, and, like an idiot, he had tagged along with Sam. Things had started to thaw between him and Cas the past three weeks, and he'd started to think… Well, Cas had helped him make several purchases for Winchester Ranch. He’d given Sam advice on planting the spring feed crop. It had to be a good sign that Cas was showing care for Dean’s future, right? And, sure, they hadn’t spoken directly. But they’d waved when they passed each other on a ride, and nodded when they crossed paths in town, and more than once Cas’s warm half-smile had been aimed in his direction as he tapped his hat and moved on. And Dean had hoped. For something.

True, Amelia had been on Cas’s arm often since that night—the night Sam had started calling the Dean/Cas apocalypse. Dean hadn't thought much of the girl at first. Cas was the stud of Lawrence, the ideal husband, wealthy and respected, and young ladies queued up for a dance or a walk with the guy. Daphne, Hannah, Meg, and a few others all vied for Cas’s attention, so Amelia was just part of the crowd. A little Christmas shopping  where Cas acted as Amelia’s chaperone wasn't enough to raise any eyes or Dean's heart rate. At least until it had happened more than once. And then they'd been seen together twice. Then three times. And then four.

And now Amelia was on Cas’s arm at the Milton family party, a party held on Christmas Eve. She seemed not only to be his guest, but a sort of co-host in training. And Dean felt something in him snap. Could he stay in this town and watch Cas marry her? Watch the man he loved ignore him and follow along quietly with his parents’ wishes.

Dean was insane. He must be. Because, honestly, burning down his ranch, hitching up Impala, and putting this whole town behind him was sounding a hell of a lot better than watching Cas play house with Amelia.

For the next hour, Dean kept to the periphery of the group, hugging the walls. He munched at the buffet bar as servants brought food in, and he smiled at mothers, and nodded encouragingly at young girls who volunteered to play the piano, but he talked to no one. He ignored Sam’s attempts at conversation, Benny’s, too. He didn’t walk near the girls waiting for dances, and he damned sure didn’t head to the center of the room where the Miltons—and Amelia—were holding court.

Half an hour more, and he could leave without seeming rude. He thought he could make it. Cas occasionally met his eye over the last hour, and it cut him each time, but either Dean was good at hiding his misery, or Cas was good at ignoring signs of it. Because when their eyes met, Cas smiled gently and then turned away. Apparently, shared stares were part of their past. Still, Dean was almost certain he could make it. Only 29 minutes left. He could manage that, for sure, at least until Amelia motioned to the piano and Cas stood to stand over her shoulder and turn pages for her.

“God dammit,” he muttered under his breath. Unable to watch this bullshit show, he pretended to give two shits about their Christmas tree decorations, and looked around the room. They’d hung up greenery everywhere. Somebody had probably spent the whole morning in the nearby forest dragging the stuff back to the house. Hell, Cas would probably have insisted on gathering it all himself. He hated when Zacariah gave their servants decorative or useless work. Was this what Cas planned to do. Act? His whole damn life? Act like the dutiful son, the perfect husband. Good luck with that, buddy, Dean thought with another glance at Cas. How was he gonna be Amelia’s husband when he had been begging Dean to come inside him just weeks ago?

Cas watched the music, following along, clearly more interested in turning the pages than in Amelia. He stood mere inches from his likely bride and he didn’t give a damn about her fingers or hands or hair or the fact that he could stare down her damn dress if he wanted.

It was fine—or it would be fine—that Cas didn’t think him good enough. He’d get over it. He had a ranch to run and a bullshit life to get back to to. One night stands with men who rolled into town or widows who were eager for a wild evening would keep Dean’s bed warm enough. Even if right now the thought of touching someone else made his stomach lurch, he’d get there eventually. Couple years oughta do it, but it wasn’t right that Cas would throw himself on the altar. He deserved better. He deserved a real life. One that would make him happy. And Dean was gonna be friend of the year and make sure he got it. He wasn’t leaving this place until he’d talked some sense back into Cas.

For the first time since the party started, Dean moved from the periphery and moved into the center of the room.

“Nice party, Mr. Milton. Everyone seems very happy.”

“Indeed, Mr. Winchester. I do believe that our guests are enjoying themselves well,” Zacariah said with a smug grin.

“While they do enjoy a celebration such as this, we are very excited to have wonderful news to celebrate of our own very soon.”

“Now, Naomi, let’s not ruin any New Year surprises. Wedding Bells won’t ring if you start to chime about nuptials too early, dear.”

Naomi giggled and Dean was torn again between wanting to punch Zach in the face and needing to vomit. He was too late. If they were already talking about weddings. He was too damn late.

Cas cared about honor and promises. He’d never promise himself to a girl and turn back. Was Dean stuck congratulating him then? Was there anything he could say to help Cas now?

The piano stopped and Dean looked up. He watched Cas’s smile tremble as he brought Amelia back to his parents and saw Dean waiting there.

“Hello, Dean.” He offered a small head tilt in lieu of a bow.

“Cas, do you mind if I borrow you a minute. There’s a purchase,” Dean stuttered. “A purchase for the Ranch. I was thinking of making. I wondered if I could ask you some questions real quick. Maybe over by the punch? I’m thirsty and I don’t wanna bore anybody.”

“Absolutely, Dean. Excuse me, Mother, Father. Amelia.”

 Dean walked as slowly as he could back to the punch bowl when he felt like running flat out. When he got there, he whipped around and saw Cas dragging feet behind him.

 “How can I help you, Dean?”

 “Help me? I’m trying to help _you_. Are you sure that Amelia is right for you, Cas? I mean, do you think she can make you happy?”

 “Dean, please. Don’t do this. You told me you wanted my help to build the ranch. And I’m happy to do it. I want all your dreams to come true for you, Dean. But I can’t confuse that with my personal life. I can’t talk to you about love or happiness or … or anything like that … You wanted distance from me, Dean. You…” Cas took a deep breath. “I am trying very hard to give you—to give everyone—what they want. To do what’s right. Please, don’t make this harder on me, Dean.”

 “So this is you giving us all what we want, huh? Well, Merry Christmas to us then, huh, Cas? But what is it _you_ want? Want me to leave you alone? Sell the ranch and ride outta your life? You feel happy with Amelia and your folks there, Cas? Is the life you’re living now gonna make you happy?”

 “Dean, no.” Cas chewed on his bottom lip, and he looked near tears. Dean had never seen Cas this upset in public. The last time they'd spoken, at the town hall weeks ago, he'd been upset, a little ruffled. But he'd been stoic. Tonight, Cas looked ready to crumble.

 Dean stepped closer, hoping to shield Cas from other eyes. Cas didn’t seem to care about an audience at the moment, but he would later.

 “Dean, to be honest, most of the time,” he wiped a hand over his eyes. “Most the time I would rather be with you.”

 “So why are you gonna marry Amelia, Cas?”

“I’m not, Dean.” Cas asked, shaking his head wildly and looking at the ground. He kept his head bent and his eyes wide, like all he saw was a hole below him, and he was falling in. “Her parents have shown an interest in me, and she seems amenable. My parents are pushing. God himself knows they are pushing. But I won’t. I can’t.” Cas raised his eyes to Dean’s for a moment and then looked away again, “I’ll never love her the way that I love you, Dean. I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone that much. Ever.” He shuddered and whispered a broken, “How can I marry some girl like Amelia when I’ll always love another?”

Dean grabbed Cas by the elbow and dragged him from the room, audience be damned. He held on to Cas until they were through the kitchens, past the gardens, and into the stable. The ten-minute walk was long and full of whispers and shocked gasps. But he didn't give a damn. And it seemed Cas didn't care how many tongues wagged over their fight because he said nothing and let Dean drag him until he passed the guests and all the servants and made their way through the house.

Dean led them through the stable door, and he kicked open an unused paddock and pulled Castiel behind the posts. They stared at each other and tried to catch their breath. Cas’s eyes told Dean he was a few minutes away from panic. He was confused and hurting. Dean was, too. And they would work through this. Dean was determined. But right now, all he could think of was Castiel’s lips. Of his long-fingered hands. Of the warmth of his skin.

They hadn’t kissed in weeks. And that was ending now.

 Dean gripped Cas’s face in both palms and pulled him forward. There eyes met for a second, Dean’s questioning if this was ok. When Cas leaned  toward him with open lips, Dean closed his eyes and lost himself in Cas. Their tongues met and their hands sought to touch the other everywhere. They pressed against each other’s bodies as though they couldn’t get close enough. Dean managed to push Cas back until they rested against the wall and the kiss grew even more earnest.  Dean ran his hands through Cas’s hair, relishing its soft texture. Cas moaned as Dean tugged, pulling Cas’s head back so that he could suck and lick on the skin at the edge of his jaw. He pushed a leg between Cas’s knees and felt how hard Cas was. Cas rutted against him, needy, desperate. Dean brushed his palms along Cas’s length, and wanted nothing more than to grip his beautiful cock until he came. He needed to see Cas come. He’d never seen it, and wondering what the love of his life looked like when he reached climax had driven him mad for more than a month. He started working to unbutton Cas’s breeches.

“Dean. Dean. I’ve missed you. I’ve needed you. I have. But we can’t do this. My family—”

Dean stopped, lifting his hands from Cas, but he couldn’t bring his body more than an inch away, not yet. “You're family to me, Cas. You have been for a long time. You don't have to let me touch you. Just let me love you. If you aren't comfortable with sex, I don't care. Just don’t let this be the end of us. Don’t let there _ever_ be an end.” Dean wrapped Cas in a hug, his arms tight around his shoulders. “I’ve wanted you in my life since the moment I met you. I don't want that to change.”

 Cas’s arms dangle at his sides. No longer pulling Dean against him. No longer willing to embrace what they have between them.

"It's not about the sex Dean, it's ... I don't know what we are. What we will be. What's in our future, Dean?

“Cas, can't we be family?”

“How can we be family, Dean? How can two men be anything more than friends?” Cas’s usually deep voice was high-pitched with anxiety, shaking with repressed tears.

Dean steps back and grips Cas’s shoulders. “You could leave your family behind and be part of mine. Move onto the ranch with me and Sammy. Help me run the ranch. Be by my side and let me be by yours. Until we’re cranky old farts, Cas.”

“So we’re going to be buddies?" 

“No, we’ll be family, Cas.”

“We won’t be husbands, Dean. And I refuse to live my life as your…your brother. I’m sorry. It's hurtful to you and to me. To turn from you like this, it’s agony. And I know it. It's a betrayal. I wish I were capable of more. But to live as a brother to you … I would rather live alone.”

“We _will_ be husbands, Cas. I’ll share my life with you. Our bed will be home to me. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“I can’t stand by your side as you marry another,  Dean. To share a bed occasionally, while you shared a home with a wife… with children… a life like that would be torturous. Purgatory. I wouldn’t survive it,” Cas finished, his head shaking back and forth, eyes red with pain.

 Dean gripped Cas’s face with both hands and shook him, gently. “I’ll be true to you. Nobody will have a greater share of my loyalty. Not even Sammy. Dammit, there will be no wife. No children. The life I build will be about you, about us, about Sam and the Ranch”

 “What are you saying, Dean?”

 “Come with me. Today. Follow me out of this barn and come home with me.” Dean pressed his lips against the corner of Cas’s shocked open mouth, hoping Cas would kiss back.

 It took a few moments, but Cas finally responded. His arms _finally_ wrapped around Dean, his fingers hesitant on Dean’s waist, and Dean said a silent prayer of thanks.

 “Be my husband, Cas, even if we can't be married in everyone else’s eyes.”

 “We’ll be bachelors in name only? Men who are married? In every way save one?”

 “Yeah. That’s what I said, Cas” Dean whispered with another soft kiss to Cas’s lips. “Let's be family.”

 “Family,” Cas repeated, nodding. He started to smile—a smile Dean thought he might never see again. His smile stretched over his entire face. His gums showed. The skin above his nose and his eyes wrinkled. He put his head back and gave a relieved laugh. His eyes sparkled, and he looked like an angel when he said, “Family, Dean. We’ll be family.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have written an epilogue that is 5 years in the future. I thought these two deserved an extended happy ending. I am editing it now and wondering if I should publish it in a few hours at midnight . . . or on Christmas Eve (since that's the setting for this fic and the epilogue). Any thoughts?


End file.
